because they just do not have the same allure as they once did. i do not care about them anymore, but i still care about you. however i have become the trees to you. stagnant, the wind cannot even amplify the sporadic nature of the leaves and why so much time becomes wasted on death. who desires to sit on anything but the void of time; in you there is more of it without me.
the delicacy in vulnerability; you laugh and i break. but every time it just gets louder; your absence filled with sound. i like it much better when i can still hear the birds rather than the wind, blowing through those goddamn trees. they have nothing else to proclaim but their existence and how they are so prominent in mine. i did not ask to depend on them as i do on you. can i exist without you?
